


Involuntary Profanity

by Umbreeunix



Series: Mass Effect Drabbles [1]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Alien Miscommunication, Comedy, Explicit Language, F/M, Fluff, Interspecies Awkwardness, Interspecies Relationship(s), Mass Effect 2, Misunderstandings, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-16
Updated: 2017-01-16
Packaged: 2018-09-17 23:53:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9352094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Umbreeunix/pseuds/Umbreeunix
Summary: Commander Shepard gets into some silly misunderstanding with the turian member of her crew, I guess there will always be things that don't translate correctly between different species.





	

**Author's Note:**

> A silly little story I came up with around the sole concept that human sneezes sound like 'fuck' in turian. (and also a request for a friend who asked for fluffy Garrus/Shep) This is set pretty early on in Mass Effect 2, but there's hardly any spoilers in the fic. I tried my best to keep everything as open ended as possible.
> 
> I'll probably make a series of one shot ME fics, just small drabbles of my favorite characters.

The first time it happens you’re caught off guard, as you usually are. There’s no real way to really predict when these things will hit.

You’re sitting in the mess, it’s late and most of the crew has either called it in for the  night or just secluded themselves in their rooms, save for you and Garrus. The two of you were always a pair of night owls, and tonight you’d decided to flip through a good book from your quarters while your turian crewmate disassembles his rifle on the table across, comfortable in the silence that’s settled between both of you.

Page by page you felt yourself climbing closer to the climax of your story, and even though you’ve read this particular one countless times before you can’t help but inch closer to the edge of your seat, engrossed in every word. That’s when your nose starts tingling. Scrunching it up on reflex before your body seizes and you let out a loud sneeze, amplified by the dead quiet you both had cozied into. Your head bows forward harshly, eyes scrunched up as the irritating itch throbs on your nostrils before slowly ebbing away, rubbing to help relieve the lingering pangs as you sit upright again. You prepare to excuse yourself politely for the sudden outburst, but falter when you’re facing your turian friend.

The man is stunned, brow plates shoot up so fast you almost thought they’d fly off his face. Your breathing stops dead, and there’s an intense sense of dread at the thought that you might have offended him somehow. But if you were reading those mandibles right, the face he’s making leans more towards shock and mild concern than scorn.

You exhale, relieved, and try to sway his worries  with a dismissive wave of your hand, which seems to be enough for him, and you watch as his eyes settle back into his work, chuckling as he fixes a piece he must’ve fumbled with thanks to your outburst. He spares you a few  more sidelong glances, and you shoot back apologetic smiles before returning to your book as well, your behind planted more securely in your seat.

You went on to assume that this was just a one time reaction, that the slightly odd behavior was just a shock and confusion. It’s only happened once after all, so it shouldn’t be anything that you have to worry about.

* * *

Now, you’re a lot more worried the second time it happens.

You’d decided to drag Tali and him onto Omega for a little black market shopping, nothing all too noteworthy, pulling out the note your two engineers had so kindly given to you. It was only one item but it was so oddly specific that you found yourself grateful they wrote it down anyway. You fold the slip of paper in half so you can tuck it into the collar of your under armor and free your hands up.

You peruse the stores, flitting through their various stock while Tali and Garrus hover behind you, one member of the pair a little more vigilant than the other, not that you minded. Your quarian friend dropped her guard once her visor came into view of a model ship on display, holding it up and teasing her Commander about a possible new addition to your slow growing collection. You roll her eyes but prove her point when you end up purchasing it anyway… after getting a little discount. Meanwhile Garrus stood rigid, sharp eyes scanning the grimy district streets, poised and ready for combat. Just like always.

Something brushed past your nose then. Some dust? An intergalactic feather? Whatever it was it had you seizing up all over again as you violently snort out the intruding object, hissing as you try to relieve the uncomfortable pounding by pinching the bridge of your nose. You shake your head before opening your eyes and see Garrus has flinched back, hands raised submissively while Tali just leans back, startled. You can tell she’s about to ask if you’re okay, cutting her off with a simple thumbs up and composing yourself again.

Okay, it looks like you can rule out that earlier time in the mess as some typical alien response, since Tali was a lot less perturbed by your sneezing than Garrus is, but that raises more question than it answers. Questions you would’ve asked if the store clerk didn’t decide to butt in, selling you shit you didn’t ask for, and by the time you actually get what you wanted the moment’s already passed and bringing it up would just be more awkward than it’s worth.

You’d get your answers though, one of these days.

* * *

The third time is thankfully unavoidable. You’d stepped into the Main Battery to pay Garrus a friendly visit, as you usually do, and the two of you got lost in a pleasant conversation about human/turian technological advancement, but if you were being perfectly honest you were just glad he wasn’t blowing you off for his usual ‘calibrations’. You swore you’d never hear that word the same again after having this man on your ship.

You were just about to go into the specs of Normandy’s predecessor when that itch comes back again, and a sharp inhale is the only preparation you get before you’re hunched forward into an impromptu bow while your body is ambushed by instinctual reaction. Once it passes you’re muttering strings of curses under your breath, standing straight with a sharp inhale so whatever had threatened to launch out of your nose doesn’t get the chance to go very far. You praise the Spirits, a saying you didn’t realize you’d picked up from Garrus until recently, as you go to apologize, only to see the turian’s recoiled once again. This time with his back against the panel with both hands gripping the sides. He was apprehensive, that much was obvious, but there was still underlying concern in the delicate flicks of his mandibles held fast against his face.

Finally, you take this opportunity to bring this whole thing to light.

“Okay, what is it?” you start, knitting your brows in disgruntled confusion, a look that ends up partially mimicked back by the defensive turian before you. You sigh and start to elaborate.

“Every time I sneeze you act like I just slapped you across the face. Is there something wrong? Am I offending you somehow? Is this some interspecies miscommunication that I’m just too dense to see?” the entire time you’re talking your hands are making exasperated gestures in the air, ending with both arms folded across your chest with your hip jutting out to one side, waiting for your answer.

You didn’t expect, however, the look of utter bewilderment on his face. Brow plates knit together and mandibles packed tightly against his cheeks, barely flitting out as he muses among his thoughts. You waited though, knowing he’d give you the answer in his own time, and seeing no point in trying to rush out his thoughts.

It takes a minute of awkward sidelong glances and fiddling with his claws before he resigns with a sigh, scratching the back of his neck as his eyes continue to avoid yours, smooth dual-tones speaking up meekly. “Well… you see…”

Frustration has his voice rumbling as he searches for the right words. You let him take his time. You wouldn’t get a better answer by hurrying him anyway, and you know he appreciated the freedom of going at his own pace. He works better that way.

With a deep breath he starts again, “look… whatever it is you’re doing sounds pretty damn different to my ears.” He stops, hoping to be finished, but instead you motion for him to continue. He grumbles, expecting just as much.

“That ‘sound’ you make, is basically one of the harshest swears in the turian language. Honestly I didn’t even know you knew how to speak it, much less start cussing out in it,” he chuckles in an attempt to lighten the mood, letting his talons trail down the side of his neck as he turns his face to the wall.

It honestly takes you a minute for what he said to sink in, and once it hits you your head dips forward somewhat, eyes wide in… shock? Astonishment? Amazement? Maybe a hearty mix of all three. “So… what you’re saying is, that every time I sneeze I’m basically saying ‘fuck’ in turian?” your eyes return to Garrus’, and although you knew the answer you just had to make sure. Had to be certain what you were hearing wasn’t some translator glitch. Even though his awkward posturing does more than enough to confirm it.

“If you want to put it bluntly, though what you’ve been saying has a bit more punch,” bright blue eyes finally fall onto yours as he tries to make his chuckling not sound as awkward as he felt. As for you…

You just lost it…

A fit of giggles quickly dissolves into intense laughter, infecting you and leaving you heaving, teary eyed, and hugging your stomach for reprieve. And poor Garrus, he’s left standing there, a flustered onlooker to his Commander’s sudden burst of mirth. You try to reassure him, to place a placating hand on his shoulder plates, let him know everything is alright, but that quickly turns into you using him as a crutch as your knees threaten to buckle under your own weight. You don’t even know why you’re laughing so hard, it wasn’t that funny, but maybe it was just the weeks of dumbfounded puzzlement and concern that made this situation that much more laughable. This whole time, you were worried over nothing.

After a minute the turian even joins you, albeit his chuckles are a lot more subdued than your roaring guffaws, too preoccupied with a Commander that looked as if her legs were about to betray her at any moment. A worried hand presses against your back to keep you steady. and after a while you finally manage to start breathing again, wheezing as your lungs struggle to get enough oxygen and trembling as you strain to regain your balance. More than thankful to have Garrus there to lend you a hand. You inhale, still giggling under your breath, even as you spoke.

“That’s absolutely incredible,” you wipe away the tears while Garrus hovers over you still, eyeing you closely as if you were about to collapse into some drunken stupor, and to be honest you don’t blame him. You lightly smack him on the shoulder, a playful gesture that earns you a snicker, rubbing the spot even though you were sure he barely felt it, “well, I’ll try to keep my involuntary alien profanity to a minimum. But I can’t make any promises.” You look up, smiling when you see mandibles open in a grin, all that tension earlier completely gone, as if it never existed to begin with. He pats you on the shoulder before returning to his console, leaning against it.

“I’m just glad you weren’t pissed at me. I was certain you were going to bite my head off every time you did that,” you snort and shake your head, and you hear him chuckle in return.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make it really obvious if I’m about to chew you out,” you counter, teasing, though the both of you knew damn well that if it came to it, you’d make good on those words. Still, he laughed and shook his head like you did.

“Yeah well, now that that’s out of the way, I’ll be glad to get back to work without fear that my Commander is going to stab me when I’m not looking,” he motions back to his console with his thumb and you raise your hands innocently and take a step back, leaving him to his guns and algorithms to head back into the mess. Snickering the whole way to the elevator.


End file.
